Is the Queen of the Iron Sands dead, boys?

Chapter 5 of Queen of the Iron Sands, a “free serial adventure in weekly web installments” written by fantasy author Scott Lynch and inspired by Edgar Rice Burroughs' classic novel A Princess of Mars (1912), has been missing for more than 30 days. While we wait and hope that Lynch and his serial adventure are alive and well, it might be fun to have a sing-along.

How about “The Queen is Dead,” a 1980s tune by The Smiths:

Oh! Take me back to dear old Blighty,
Put me on the train for London Town,
Take me anywhere,
Drop me anywhere,
Liverpool, Leeds or Birmingham
But I don't care,
I should like to see my ...

I don't bless them
Farewell to this land's cheerless marshes
Hemmed in like a boar between arches
Her very Lowness with a head in a sling
I'm truly sorry - but it sounds like a wonderful thing

I said Charles, don't you ever crave
To appear on the front of the Daily Mail
Dressed in your Mother's bridal veil?
Oh ...

And so, I checked all the registered historical facts
And I was shocked into shame to discover
How I'm the 18th pale descendant
Of some old queen or other

Oh, has the world changed, or have I changed ?
Oh has the world changed, or have I changed ?

Some 9-year-old tough who peddles drugs
I swear to God
I swear: I never even knew what drugs were
Oh ...

So, I broke into the palace
With a sponge and a rusty spanner
She said: "Eh, I know you, and you cannot sing"
I said: "That's nothing - you should hear me play piano"

We can go for a walk where it's quiet and dry
And talk about precious things
But when you're tied to your Mother's apron
No-one talks about castration
Oh ...

We can go for a walk where it's quiet and dry
And talk about precious things
Like love and law and poverty
Oh, these are the things that kill me

We can go for a walk where it's quiet and dry
And talk about precious things
But the rain that flattens my hair ...
Oh, these are the things that kill me

All their lies about make-up and long hair, are still there

Past the pub who saps your body
And the church who'll snatch your money
The Queen is dead, boys
And it's so lonely on a limb
Past the pub that wrecks your body
And the church - all they want is your money
The Queen is dead, boys
And it's so lonely on a limb

Life is very long, when you're lonely
Life is very long, when you're lonely
Life is very long, when you're lonely
Life is very long, when you're lonely